Belle - Lesley Pearse [156]
When they reached the market Belle kept her wits about her so as not to get separated from Madame Albertine, fearing she could be lost in the huge crowds for ever. She had seen many markets – back in Seven Dials it was one big market daily – but she’d never seen anything like this one.
There were many hundreds of stalls filled with every kind of foodstuff she could think of, and a lot more she didn’t recognize. Hares, rabbits and pheasants were hung up by their feet on poles. Ready-plucked turkeys, chickens and geese were displayed on vast shelves. There were stalls with mountains of shiny red apples, others where different fruits and vegetables were displayed so beautifully they looked like a work of art. There were splendid iced cakes especially for Christmas, Dundee cakes and other similar kinds topped with glazed fruit and nuts. Dozens of huge red, brown and white sausages were hung up, the stallholder often hacking off a slice and inviting his customers to try. There were countless jars of what Belle assumed were preserves although she couldn’t recognize the contents, and stalls selling only bread, many of the loaves made into plaits and other fantastic shapes. There were herbs, spices, bottles of wine and cordials, chocolate, toffees and sweets.
Here and there was a stall selling hand-painted decorations for the Christmas tree, and there were also gingerbread biscuits with decorative icing which immediately reminded Belle of Mog. She used to make biscuits like these for Christmas and hang them by their strings on a line above the stove.
They had never had a Christmas tree at home. Annie sneered at them, and in fact she didn’t seem to like any of the traditions of Christmas. At the age of seven Belle had been very disappointed to be told that the red woolly stocking Mog always got her to hang up by the stove for Santa Claus to fill with sweets, nuts and small toys, was in fact filled by Mog too. But even if Annie didn’t embrace Christmas, she did enjoy the feasting element of it. As the house was closed, those of the girls who hadn’t got family near enough to go home to came down to the kitchen, and Belle always remembered it being a very jolly day, with both Mog and her mother getting a bit drunk. Sometimes they had goose, sometimes a big chicken, but there were sausages too, wonderful stuffing and what Mog called her Special Christmas Roast Potatoes. Belle knew Mog would love this French market, for all around her were women who looked very like her, filling up their shopping baskets with special treats for their families.
On one stall a man was roasting a pig on a spit, and Madame Albertine bought two bread rolls stuffed with the roast pork for them to eat as they walked about.
‘This is heavenly!’ Belle exclaimed, rolling her eyes in ecstasy, for she hadn’t tasted anything so good for a very long time. ‘I’m not going to want to leave Marseille at this rate.’
Madame Albertine picked out a Christmas tree along with all the other goods she’d bought, and a young boy promised to bring it to the house later. Madame explained that she had a big box of decorations for it, and Belle could help her with it when they got home.
Belle finally went to bed at midnight, hardly able to believe what a wonderful day she’d had. After the long, lonely time since leaving Martha’s, it was lovely to have female company, and to help with the shopping and cooking and decorating the Christmas tree. Madame Albertine was so easy to talk to that Belle ended up confiding in her about her time in New Orleans, Faldo’s death and how disappointed she’d been that Miss Frank had been so nasty to her. Part of the reason she told her this was because she was fairly certain Arnaud would tell